Cooties
by Stan's-Favorite-Flavor-Is-Kyle
Summary: The best day of Stan's life was the day Wendy gave him cooties. The worst day of his life was the day she broke his heart, and he's never been the same.
1. Intro: And so it begins

**Authors Note: **Even though I prefer Stan with Kyle, and I prefer Wendy with Cartman, it doesn't mean I don't still appreciate the original couple of South Park; StanxWendy. I think it's adorable, and it's what brought me to start watching and liking South Park in the first place. It's the whole reason Stan is my very favorite.

I do not expect many reviews at all for this, simply because too many people would rather read SxK slash (as would I). What I hope is that there are still some StanxWendy fans out there that will enjoy something about them for a change, a story where Stan is not cheating on her with Kyle, and one where Wendy isn't made out to be an unjustified bitch. However, you still get to enjoy the extremely close and kind of suspicious-at-times friendship Stan and Kyle share.

If there's any left, this is dedicated to all of you StanxWendy fans, whether they are your favorite or you simply still have a soft spot for them.

This will be Stan's POV.

**This is not a one-shot.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own South Park or any of the affiliated characters.

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**Introduction- And so it begins:**

_"If I gave you my hand would you take it  
And make me the happiest man in the world  
If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, girl  
Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea  
Let me know if you're really a dream  
I love you so, so would you go with me "_

_(- Josh Turner, "Would you go with me".)_

---

When I was seven, I had it all figured out. I knew who I was, I knew what I liked, I knew how I _felt. _It couldn't be any simpler. You get a candy, and you feel happy. Cartman takes your candy and you get pissed-off. Kick his ass; satisfaction. It was simple, almost mathematical equations.

And then you turn eight and the same girl that made you throw-up because she had cooties suddenly makes you throw-up because you _want _her cooties. I think it was Kenny who said it best; A loud and proud "Bring them on!", in retaliation to Clyde's "she has cooties!" warning when Kenny was caught kissing a girl behind the monkey bars after they had played "doctor" together. That afternoon, he was hit by a car and Butters cried, then decided, "It was his own stinkin' fault anyhow, the no-good slut".

Secretly I envied Kenny and his balls, because I sure didn't have any. Not when it came to girls. I watched him turn on the charm, watched as he kissed half the girls in our grade. It was like once you actually caught this imaginary disease girls had, the infection spread and then you couldn't get enough. It was scary in the most appealing way, and the look on my promiscuous blonde friend's face after each incident only kindled my curiosity. I desperately wanted cooties. But more than that, I wanted _Wendy's_ cooties.

…And it didn't make any sense.

A lot of things didn't anymore. Like how it suddenly mattered to me if my hair looked alright, if my breath smelled bad, and even if my clothes were stupid. I scrubbed myself clean every morning and worried if I was cool, and smart, and funny. I started having trouble concentrating, even on things I was into, like football. I forgot how to do normal things; I'd lose my balance if she looked at me, went mute if she talked to me. I wasn't sure what to do with myself.

Then came the day that Kenny kissed her. _My _girl-germ infested, cootie-infected Wendy. I saw it happen, under the slide, in broad daylight. Kyle swears it happened so fast you'd barely realize they kissed at all, but that wasn't true for me. It was like time stood still. Up until then, I'd never turned on my friends, never thought I ever would. But in that moment, any friendly feelings I had for Kenny knotted into a huge ball of hatred. I lunged at him, nearly tackling Wendy to the ground along with us. My fingers curved around his throat and I began slamming his head into the ground.

"What the fuck!" He screamed.

"Shit, dude! Stan's kicking Kenny's ass!" Kyle broadcast to the entire playground, who in turn swarmed all around.

But I couldn't bring myself to stop. I was so _angry,_ more angry than I remember being in my life. Kenny choked for mercy, his little fingers curling around mine and making vague attempts to pry them away, but he was laughing. Maybe because his head was hitting thick, plush grass piled high with about two feet of snow. I don't know who I think I was kidding, but it wasn't hurting him in the least. In fact, he managed to pull me down on top of him and gave me a loud smooch, smack on the lips. Almost immediately I dropped my hold on him and shot into the air, spitting and wiping my mouth.

"Well, if you want the cooties so bad…" He mumbled, snickering beneath his plush orange hood.

That's the day Kenny started kissing boys. He first announced how kissing me actually wasn't half bad, and then he grabbed Kyle and planted one on him.

"Ah, sick dude! Sick!" He yelled, fleeing the scene.

Kenny snickered, then turned amused eyes to another blonde. "Butters?" He asked.

"Oh, Gee!" He yelped, and Kenny chased him around the playground.

I don't know if he ever caught his victim, because Wendy had sauntered up to my side, poking me to get my attention. "Stan?"

And I threw up, for the first time in history, _on _her. Before had always been near misses, but this time she was covered. The strange thing was besides a simple "Ew!", she merely wiped it off and returned to the matter at hand. "Don't be mad," she soothed, her voice ringing bells in my heart. "I didn't want to kiss Kenny."

"You didn't?"

"No way, dude! Poor people smell like sour milk."

"Oh." Her answer was rather intelligent, at least in my little 3rd grade mind, and only impressed and intrigued me further.

Lacing her pink-gloved fingers behind her back, she edged closer to me. Her black snow shoes crunched in the frozen crystals until one was pressed against mine, and I remember thinking how good she smelled, almost like when my mom was mixing together cookie batter. I gulped, but she was smiling gently, her eyes fixated on the ground.

"Actually Stan, there _is_ someone I want to kiss."

I noticed then that my knees were shaking, and despite the cold, my palms were clammy in my red mittens. "Th-there is?" I stammered, eyes glued to my shoes, heart racing. I swallowed. _Hard. _My mouth had run dry, and my stomach felt uneasy. What were these symptoms? Had I caught cooties?

"Mmm-hmm," She went on. "He's really sweet, and handsome," I could feel her eyes burning into me. "more handsome than anyone I've ever seen in my life. I like him. A _lot_."

There was a mixture of hope and jealousy accumulating rather quickly in the pit of my stomach, and in that moment I knew I'd die if she ever liked someone else.

"Do you think if I kissed him, he would kiss me back?"

My head snapped in her direction, and almost immediately felt her lips against mine with a loud "Muaaah!". The contact was brief, but tasted so sweet. It made my heart stop completely and then combust, in a good way, like a million fireworks shooting off in my body, tingling and tickling down to my toes. When she pulled away, I puked a second time, then fell backward into the snow with the goofiest smile drawn up my face.

"Bye Stan," she giggled, hurrying off with Bebe.

All of my symptoms were gone; the dizziness, the sweaty palms, the shaking knees, that gut-wrenching pain in my stomach. I was made better by her kiss and reached my own conclusions then. I had already _had _cooties. It was a love disease, caused by girls and cured by girls. I had caught it somehow, and Wendy made it better. The only thing I had now was jelly legs and the sensation I was floating on air.

"Dude, what the hell happened to you?" Kyle kicked the bottom of my shoe, having appeared out of no where with Kenny and Cartman. Apparently they had only now realized I hadn't followed them off when I was done beating Kenny's ass.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" Cartman wondered.

"I'm… in love." I confessed on a monster of a sigh.

Kyle didn't understand, Cartman said I was a fag, and Kenny assured me I wasn't in love, I only wanted to bone her.

"No dudes," I shook my head, sprawled in the powdery whiteness of winter, the stupid smile still occupying my face. "This is the best feeling in the whole world. Everyone's always talking about it all the time and you think they're just crazy, but it's true; it's the most amazing feeling …I'm in love."

Cartman coughed loudly into his hand, which sounded suspiciously like "Fag, fag!"

"_Stan,_" Kyle barked, evidently appalled by the entire thing. "Wendy is a _girl,_ alright? A _girl." _He wiggled all of his fingers at me, emphasizing how disgusting that was. "She's got _cooties._"

I looked up into the crystal blue heavens. "Yeah… cooties…" It came out in a sort of airy, dreamy way, and Kenny laughed.

"Well that's it," Kyle surrendered with a troubled frown. "We've lost him to the dark side."

Closing my eyes, I breathed deep the crisp air and released it on a love-sick sigh, for the first time in my life experiencing what my heart was for.

And so it began…

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	2. Forever

**Author: **Ah, Wendy/Stan lovers! So nice to see! I still hope S/K fans will give this a try cuz there's gonna be a whole lot of interaction with them. THANK YOU, those who were kind enough to leave reviews.

**Disclaimer: **No.

* * *

**Chapter 2- Forever:**

_"You said you'd love me forever,_

_then you said, "its over",_

_and left me without the missing link._

_I thought I'd forget you, _

_But I guess I forgot to,_

_and lately I've been too confused to think."_

_(Collin Raye- "I can still feel you.")_

_---_

So maybe I was completely crazy, but after Wendy gave me my first kiss, a lot of questions came up. One of them was particularly strange, but I was too embarrassed to say anything about it… and I wished I knew _why. _

"…Kyle?" I breathed into the silence, not long before MAC was formed and declared war on Canada.

We were lying next to each other, him curled on his side facing me while I stared up at the darkened ceiling of my room, hands behind my head.

"Hmm?" He hummed into my ear, sounding halfway to dreamland already. It had been a rough night; junk food, video games, Terrence and Phillip, dodging Shelley, beating the shit out of each other-- all in good fun. Just another typical Saturday night for us.

Only on this particular night, sleep couldn't find me. I was too… _bothered. _But I knew Kyle could help me figure it out, and most importantly, I knew he would take me seriously and wouldn't laugh.

"Is my…" I let my voice trail off, feeling _stupid._

"Is your _what_?" Kyle grunted. "is your talking keeping me up? Uh, let me think; yeah, it _is._"

"Shut up, asshole, and listen." I snapped. "I need to ask you something important."

His eyes were still closed. "Then shut _up _and ask me." Hesitating, I bit my lip, then took the plunge.

"Is my wiener too small?"

A long, loud silence.

Kyle's eyes nearly popped out of his head and I felt him stiffen beside me. I could hear my heart in my ears, and then he shot upright. "What the _hell _is that suppose to mean?" He bellowed. "Too small for _what?!"_

"I don't…. I don't know." _Did I? It didn't make any sense to me either! _"Too small for… Wendy, I guess."

"Why would you show it to her in the first place?" He shrieked. "My God dude, she's a chick! She might try to do something chickariffic, like give it a makeover or spray perfume on it or something. _Jesus _Stan, what are you _on_?"

"I don't _know _dude." I sat up and faced him, feeling more retarded than I ever did in my life. "I just feel like it has to be big or she wont like me anymore."

"You can piss, can't you?"

Blink. "…yeah."

"Well then it's _fine." _He hugged my blanket to his chest to keep warmer. "As long as it works, you're fine."

I scratched my head. "I… but does it… _look _big?"

"I don't know!" The yell echoed in my ear like a bell and made it ring. "I've never looked at it before!"

I pulled my eyes away, feeling gay, and just a little offended, because _I've _looked at _his _before.

"Well, maybe it's time." Brilliance struck me. I sat up on my knees, shoving my fingers beneath the elastic of my pajama pants. "Here, look at it."

"Stan, what the _fuck _is wrong with you?!!!" He had sprung from the bed and was now glaring at me from across the room. With no shame whatsoever, I pulled them down my hips, stepping over the pile of material and toward him.

"C'mon Kyle, I'd do it for you. Just take a look at it."

"No way, dude!" He faced the wall, burying his eyes in his hands. "It's not cool to look at other people's firemen!"

"I'm not other people, I'm Stan."

_Silence._

"… Kyle, _please_." It was kinda weird to be begging Kyle to look at my dingdong, but I _had _to know if it looked alright. "You're the only one who can help me with this dude, I don't trust anyone else."

There was a sigh, followed by a grumbled, "Goddammit."

I knew I had won him over, so I pulled down the front of my underwear, exposing myself to the chilly night air. I moved closer to him and we both bowed our heads and peered down at it, the pale moonlight streaming around us. Our foreheads touched.

"Looks like a wiener to me." He diagnosed, then stepped back and folded his arms across his chest.

"… Is it…do you th-think it's…?" I swallowed. My throat was dry and my tongue papery. "… _nice?"_

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "God Stan… can we please just… _not _do this?! _Please?! _I'm getting… I'm getting one of my _mom's _sick headaches."

He cut across the room and propelled himself back into bed, snuggling deep inside the blanket, and I wondered why he was so angry about this.

I put my pants back on, sliding them up slowly, afraid because he didn't seem too favorably impressed and even more worried that Wendy wouldn't be, for whatever reason she'd see it.

I slid in next to him, feeling bad. "You're not… _mad _at me, are you?" We were sharing one blanket; the warmth of his body heat engulfed me and made me shiver.

His eye cracked open. "Of course I'm not mad at you."

I studied his face and red hair that was practically glowing in the dark. I felt like…I wasn't _good _enough, for either him or Wendy.

"Ah, come on Stan." He turned to face me. "Don't look at me like that, you know I love you." I smiled at him. He frowned.

"You have cooties, that's all… God, just don't give them to _me_." He closed his eyes and cuddled deeper into his pillow. "Freakin' weirdos, man."

---

Kyle wasn't exactly thrilled with my new found feelings. He thought it was stupid and, quite frankly, "sick, dude!". I tried again to explain myself, but he wouldn't hear of it. According to his eight year old logic, I had betrayed my own kind and that wasn't cool. Every time I puked because of Wendy, Kyle nearly puked because of me, although our reasoning's were completely different.

It scared me that I'd lose my position as his best friend, which I had proudly held since preschool. From the first time I'd seen his shamrock green eyes at the age of three, Kyle had been my whole world. But that was threatened now, because Wendy was quickly catching up, and before long she was my whole _life. _Kyle and I both knew it.

Things were awkward for a while. He wouldn't even look me in the eye. Kenny told me he was weaning himself off my friendship, because Wendy was sure to suck all the life out of me. With a shocked and riveting heart, I told Kenny that she could never replace my best friend, and Kenny assured me it didn't matter anyway, because he'd take _really_ good care of "that delectable little Jew." _Wink. Grin._

I decided not to ask him what he meant by that, because I was sure I didn't want to know. Honestly, I didn't give a shit either. I needed to talk to my best friend, nothing else mattered.

"Kyle?" I asked during a particularly silent game of one-on-one basketball.

He stole the ball, ran up the court, and made a perfect shot before facing me, eyebrows perked up in question. I rubbed my arm nervously, gaze burning into the hard ground.

"You know you're my best … f-fuh-friend, don't you?"

Silence followed, except for the haunted sound of the wind blowing a creaky swing in the distance. I held my breath, waiting. He blinked and stared at me forever, studying my eyes. He wanted to believe me; _needed _to. _I _needed him to. The sun was hot that day, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickle down my neck.

"…Yeah," He finally answered, ignoring my gaze in favor of his shoes.

But I didn't think he really meant that.

"Kyle I… I m-mean it. Please don't… _don't_…_h_-hate me...I'm s-s-so..."Tears pricked my eyes. The little Jew has always had that effect on me. I sniffled.

The basketball fell from his arms, bouncing off to the side and out of sight. He embraced me and I collapsed into his hold. "I _know _Stan," He spoke firmer this time, then released me and put his hand on my shoulder. The troubled frown he had worn for weeks was replaced with a genuine smile. "Nothing is going to come between us. We'll be best friends our whole lives." Five fingers curled into my skin, giving a squeeze. "_forever."_

I wanted to hug him, but managed to restrain myself and smiled back through tear-glassed eyes. He pat my shoulder and then darted off for the ball again.

I closed my eyes , thanking God, and breathed Kyle's promise into the sky.

"Forever."

---

After that it was better. Despite Kenny's infinite deaths, and Cartman's bullshit, and my parents stupidity, and the usual _crap _we went through just because we lived in South Park, I was immensely _happy._

Life… _everything_… was beautiful.

_Wendy _was beautiful. I was so deeply in love. Madly, insanely in love. Our relationship grew into something indescribable. She was no longer the "girl that I liked", but my actual, honest to God _girlfriend. _We dated exclusively, excessively, and even told each other "I love you."

And I meant it.

…_Fuck, _I meant it so _much. _

But if I said it was perfect, I'd be lying. We fought sometimes; like on Halloween when I dressed up like Raggedy-Andy to her Raggedy-Ann, just for her, and she came to school as Chewbacca instead and everyone laughed at me all day. I was so _mad _at her, especially after she gave all the candy she won to starving children in Nairobi.

There was also the time she refused to come near me at all because she thought I'd give her my STD's, even though I didn't have any and we weren't doing anything to cause her alarm even if I did. Neither one of us were at fault for that one. Adults are just so fucking stupid sometimes.

The worst part of all was the people who got in the way; Miss Ellen, Gregory, Bebe, _Cartman._ I wish I were shitting on the last one, but it's fucking true! She kissed Cartman! Not only in front of me, but the entire school-- the entire _town._ I was miserable for days once the shock wore off. It hurt me so badly. We hurt _each other _badly in that sense. I can't erase the image of her with tears in her eyes because of that skanky substitute teacher. It still pains me I ever hurt her that much. I didn't even _like _Miss Ellen. She was just pretty and showed too much skin and my hormones were just starting to bud. I never _cared _about her, and I never, not for a blink of a second, stopped caring for Wendy. She was the only one who had my heart, and she had all of it. I can only hope it was the same on her end. I hope… I was the only one in her heart.

From 3rd grade into 4th, the transaction between my eighth and ninth birthday was the best year of my life. I was hers forever, she was mine too. And I was happy, and I was complete. Nothing, I thought, could ruin it.

… Then it happened, and I don't know _why. _

I don't even know why we went for weeks without talking to each other. Neither one of us was mad-- at least, I don't think she was. I did guy things and she did girl things, but that's the only reason I can come up with. Why _didn't _I miss her all that time? Why didn't she miss me?

Somehow we drifted apart, and the next thing I knew Bebe was in my face, playing messenger for Wendy to let me know that she breaks up.

My world crumbled that day.

It's been five years, and I have never been the same, not on the inside. The only reason I go on and try not to think about it is because of Butters' gay little speech when I was "Raven the Goth" and because being away from Kyle was only doubling the pain. It doesn't mean my soul has been mended.

My heart is still broken. Pathetic; maybe. I don't give a shit. Time may be able to heal, but only the initial pain. I love Wendy, and no amount of time can possibly make that go away. I don't understand how her love did; not unless she's pretending.

Like _I_ do every day.

* * *

**(To Be Continued...)**


End file.
